


billions and billions all around us

by knitbelove (ladymac111)



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content, Spoilers for Book 2: Wayward Son, Truck Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21589429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymac111/pseuds/knitbelove
Summary: Snow’s lips on mine are chilled, and his hair is dripping into mine, drops of water sliding down my scalp.  His clothes are still wet too, seeping through the thin fabric of my shirt until we’re both damp and I can imagine I’m wearing his skin.  Or he’s wearing mine, chilly and covered in goose-flesh.A version of chapter 41 where they got off in the back of Shep's truck after the river.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 16
Kudos: 182





	billions and billions all around us

**Author's Note:**

> :3c

_BAZ_

Snow’s lips on mine are chilled, and his hair is dripping into mine, drops of water sliding down my scalp. His clothes are still wet too, seeping through the thin fabric of my shirt until we’re both damp and I can imagine I’m wearing his skin. Or he’s wearing mine, chilly and covered in goose-flesh.

I open my mouth, and with the roar of the car and the rushing of the wind I’m not ashamed to moan. He tightens his arms around my shoulders, bumps into me with his hips. I feel like I’m not allowed to touch him but I do, I must; I slide my hands under his shirt and up his back until my fingertips brush the base of his wings. He flexes, and above us both they futter, a different shade of darkness that temporarily blots out the endless Colorado sky.

He pushes his tongue into my mouth, demanding, aggressive, possessive. _Crowley, Snow, I've always been yours._

I fade back into sharp awareness when he shifts his weight, breaking his mouth off mine; my heart is thundering (to the extent that it still does) and he’s growing warm, his face and hands and his belly pressing against mine.

He leans down again, but not to kiss; he sets his cheek beside mine. “Can I?”

I have deja vu for a moment, until my poor addled brain catches up with what he’s asking. What he’s asking again, now that he’s this far. Now that we’re this far.

I tip my head, caressing his cheek with mine, and I shut my eyes against the intensity of my feeling. _I love you._ “Please.…”

He shudders for a moment. Or maybe that’s the truck, it’s really the opposite of a sensory deprivation experience back here. But he definitely drags his mouth down my neck, and at the base of my throat he lifts himself up in a way that thrills me with how dragon-like he is. Not like Maggie, but like the one eighth year. Huge, powerful. Magic in a way he can’t control but no less dangerous for it. His wings beat again, stabilizing him, and then he holds them low around us. Not really enveloping us, not closing us off from the rushing air and billions and billions all around us. But he seems to be saying that this is _ours_ , that this little capsule of a moment belongs only to the two of us.

Or maybe I’ve gone absolutely soppy with cold and adrenaline and testosterone. Probably oxytocin too.

He’s doing something with one hand, but with his torso in the way I can’t quite tell what it is until he grabs his jeans by the waistband and pushes them down, just over his arse.

I gasp and dig my fingers into his sides. Before I can remind myself to be cautious he kisses me roughly, and then that same hand is at the button of my own trousers.

Simon Snow is touching my cock through my clothing. He’s trying to get it out and he’s struggling but he’s not stopping and I can _feel_ his energy, I can smell his wanting almost as strongly as my own. I want to reach down, to touch more of his bare skin, but I’m terrified to move and break the spell.

Or perhaps I just want him _like this_. I want to be loved, I want exactly what he’s going to give me and I won’t demand a single thing more. I want him to have exactly what he wants of me.

I just want _him_ , even though it’s like this.

_I want you to love me, Simon._

It's mad to think that he heard me, but I think he heard me. He kisses me, as tenderly as I can expect for the jostling of the frankly atrocious suspension on this infernal machine. But he makes it tender, and just as my heart is about to break he gets my fly open and strokes my aching cock, skin on skin.

I'm surprised until I hazily remember I've lost my luggage, and I haven't got any pants on. And for once it's fine, it's good. If it makes it possible for me to have Simon right now I'd give up every scrap of fabric I own. Even if all I get is tonight.

He's breathing heavily, his chest pressing against mine. He's beginning to warm up and I wrap my arms around him as tightly as I dare, I pull my knees up around his hips and he tilts his pelvis into me as he bends down to grace me with another deep kiss.

And oh, the pressure of him!

He's growing warmer under the touch of my hands, and especially where his belly is against mine. And then he shifts and _Merlin that's him,_ it's his cock sliding alongside mine and I can smell each beat of his heart.

I press upwards as hard as I can, which isn't much with my legs wrapped around him. He's coming more and more alive, heating up everywhere that I'm touching him. Even his nose on my cheek has regained its warmth and at long last that vitality of his seeps into me, percolating through my freezing tissue and giving me that life I constantly crave, giving me that piece of himself that I always want so, so badly.

_Simon…._

The touch of his cock on mine is stupefying. My whole body is tingling, electric. Each thrust is an exhilarating rush, a push closer to something that we can both feel. He's kissing me still and all I can do is lie here and feel it, feel him and drown in my love for him. He's in charge and I'm along on the ride of my life.

As Simon fills me with fire, it collects in my belly, in my groin. Like magic, but lower, more animal. My world is shrinking, down to Simon's mouth, his shoulders flexing under my touch, his hands on my head and arm, his magnificent cock making love to me.

And we hit a bump, and his front teeth knock mine, and just like that, I'm gone.

_SIMON_

Baz coming below me is like nothing I've imagined.

I'm glad I haven't, I'm glad I get to simply experience him, to know that I did this: I reduced Basilton Grimm-Pitch to a moaning, trembling mess who's clinging to me with all his considerable strength.

I've never felt so powerful. I'm light-headed, drunk on everything about tonight. On finally feeling like a good boyfriend, a capable man who can give _this_ to his lover. It's better than magic.

I kiss him again -- I can't stop kissing him, and I won't, and he's sloppy and gasping and it's got no right being this hot.

I thrust against him again, feeling my own climax coming finally. I haven't, not in a long time, but the unfamiliarity is exciting. I've never with him, I've never in public.

I've never wanted it as much as I want this.

All I want is him.

Bursts of white behind my eyelids, stars above us and below is and inside us both. I know Baz knows, he's holding me so tight I think we'll merge. I’m panting into his neck and I can barely move and the pleasure is so intense I can't think.

My come is hot between our bellies, and Baz is breathing so hard he's lifting me up and down, gasping against my face and I won't let him go, I won't. 

I kiss him and he devours me, danger and desperation. I haven't even come down and another surge rushes through me, and we both gasp.

Time stops for a while. Baz is warm beneath me, and the air rushing around us is chilly, and it’s dark except for the endless cosmos above. Merlin, I love him so much. I’m indescribably lucky, to have him here in my arms, satisfied and warm and vulnerable. I never want this to end, this closeness. I want to merge into him, so that he can’t leave me even if he wants to. So that I can’t be afraid of him any more.

Once someone knows you, really knows you, there’s nothing left to fear, is there?

Baz doesn’t know me that much, I don’t think. But we got close. We _are_ close, right now.

Intimacy is quite mad, it turns out.

I didn’t know we could be like this. I like it.

_I love you. Let me say it how I can._

_BAZ_

Simon ejaculating on my belly with a rough shout is the best thing that's ever happened to me. _I did this._

I expect the perfect moment to shatter but it doesn’t, it keeps going. He and I are both spent but we’re not finished, he’s still making love to me and I’m drinking up every caress, every thrust, every squeeze that he gives me. We’re warm and sticky and the sleeping bag does absolutely nothing to cushion the bed of the truck but it doesn’t matter, Simon is here, he’s still here. He occasionally spreads his wings but it’s just … I don’t know what it is. But he’s not flying away, he’s not running, he’s not closing off. Not from me, anyway.

I knew I wanted to have sex with him. I didn’t know it would be like this.

He turns me inside out with his hips and tongue, he gets down inside me and takes up residence in the heart that I’ve prepared for him for years. His sturdy hands touch every inch of me, claiming me. I’m putty, I’m jelly.

I’m his for- _fucking_ -ever.

_SIMON_

When my limbs turn to noodles, Baz rolls sideways so we can keep kissing, and he keeps one leg wrapped around my thigh. But after a moment I feel the drip of bodily fluids, and he feels it too, because he stops and pulls back.

I’m about to try to say something when I see that he’s fumbling in his pocket (lower than usual on his hip -- _that was my doing_ ) and he pulls out his wand. I can’t hear the spell but I feel the magic, and the distinctive sensation of **_clean as a whistle_** scrapes over me, removing the most obvious evidence of our lovemaking.

God, _lovemaking._ That’s what this was, wasn’t it? Out here under the stars, going seventy miles an hour through the desert, we had sex for the first time but it wasn't remotely _just fucking_ , it was _love_.

It was my first. I think it was his first too. I'm not certain, we've never discussed it, but I think I'd know if it wasn't. He'd have been less insufferable at Watford if he'd ever gotten off with someone, I think. And he wasn't interested in anybody, anyway.

Nobody but me. And I had no idea….

It’s too much to comprehend. And it seems that sex works best for me when I'm not thinking about it. I pull Baz close and turn my attention back to his beautiful mouth.

I’m glad my body knows what to do. How to love him.

_BAZ_

Simon keeps kissing me, pausing only briefly when I spell away our mess. (I sort of want to leave it, to keep it forever, to show it off to Bunce and the Normal and the whole world: Simon Snow is mine, he's claimed me.) (But also this is so special, so intimate between us, to share it with anyone but the sky feels like sacrilege.)

I wish I had a roadmap for tonight. I wish I knew that this Simon existed somewhere other than Interstate Whatever in Colorado.

I feel like don’t know anything about him.

But I think that’s okay.

The stars saw us tonight. They’ll remember, even if we get wrapped up in things and forget. This happened.

Simon Snow is my first, last, and only. I promise it by the moonless sky.


End file.
